Chill Of An Early Fall
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: Desperation drove her actions, and she struggled hard enough against the bondage that she managed to slide her right hand out of the cloth that bound her wrist to the bedpost, and she slammed it against her attacker.
1. Chapter 1

Hey again, everyone! Obsessed and Essy here again, bringing you another angst ridden story! Now, this first chapter contains descriptions of rape, so sensitives should turn away now! Yeah, that's about it. On with the story!

Disclaimer: Not ours.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

Allison Cameron sighed as she pulled her keys out of her pocket and slid the correct key into the lock. Opening the door, she slid her shoes and jacket off, then set her purse at the table.

Her bathtub was calling to her, and after another incredibly long day of dealing with House, she was looking forward to a long bubble bath, and maybe a glass of wine.

As she bent over to pull her socks off, a blinding pain in her head sent her spiraling into unconsciousness.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

When she came to again, her head was pounding mercilessly, and she was laying in her bed. What the hell happened? she thought, moving her hand to touch her head. But she quickly realized that some kind of material was binding her wrists, and she groaned and struggled against the restraints.

"Don't even bother, my dear," a cool voice stated, and Cameron stopped moving. "That's it. Just relax."

The bed dipped down on the right side, and Cameron forced her eyes to open as a hand ran along her side. "G-get away from me," she managed as she began to struggle again.

"Not a chance, my love. You're all mine," the sandy haired, dark eyed man purred as his hands slid between her thighs, and it was then that she realized she was completely naked. A cold terror swept over her.

The intruder suddenly pinned her against the bed with his weight, running his wet tongue along her neck. She started to scream, but something was swiftly shoved into her mouth, and she had to concentrate on not getting sick and choking to death.

"Can't have you alerting the neighbors, sweetheart," the man purred, palming her breast with a rough hand.

She tried to scream again, but all that came out was a muffled squeak, and tears of desperation began to leak down her cheeks.

Her assailant leaned close enough that she could feel his hot breath against her skin, and he licked her tears away, then shoved himself into her.

The pain from his penetration made her scream, but no sound came out, and she shut her eyes tightly as the man rocked and moaned against her.

Desperation drove her actions, and she struggled hard enough against the bondage that she managed to slide her right hand out of the cloth that bound her wrist to the bedpost, and she slammed it against her attacker.

Her attacker grunted in pain, then slammed his fist against the left side of her head. And she knew nothing more.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

He knocked on the door, once, twice, three times. No response. His frown deepened. They knew something was wrong when Cameron hadn't showed up for work that morning. Now she wasn't answering her door. Wilson had half a mind to call the cops right then and there.

He sighed and leaned his head against the door, dropping his hand to the knob. He was surprised to find the door wasn't actually locked. That seemed odd. Cameron would always lock her door.

He turned the knob slowly, unsure of what he'd find on the other side. He pushed the heavy door open quietly and poked his head inside her apartment. "Cameron?"

There was no response. He hesitated a moment, torn between calling the police or investigating himself. Unwillingly, he thought about what House would do. No doubt he would avoid the cops. Swallowing hard, Wilson closed the door. No need to alarm the cops if nothing was wrong.

He moved slowly throughout her apartment, calling her name softly in the beginning, but then realized that either no one was there, or Cameron was asleep, because he continued to be answered only by the tense silence. He walked through her living room and kitchen and finally found himself at her bedroom.

The door was slightly ajar. Wilson felt his heart pounding against his chest, and he had to assure himself there was nothing to be nervous about. True, House would kill to be him right now, but this wasn't really the time for such matters. He took a deep breath and pushed open her bedroom door.

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw her lying on the bed. She must have just been sleeping, exhausted from the stress of her job and her boss. Perhaps she was ill? Wilson moved closer to her still form hesitantly. Her body was covered in blankets except for her face. Her expression was neutral, but her cheeks didn't appear flushed at all. He frowned. She didn't look as though she had a fever.

He brushed his fingers lightly against her forehead before setting the back of his hand against it. She didn't feel overly warm to him. He removed his hand slowly, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.

And then he saw it. He froze, unable to move, paralyzed by shock and gripped by fear, his hand halfway between his side and her forehead. There was blood, dried blood, caked in her hair on her left side. His heart leapt into his throat; what the hell had happened?

As gently as he could, he turned her head to the side. What he saw sickened him. The back of her head was covered in blood. His breath caught in his throat and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. With fumbling fingers, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. After giving the operator Cameron's address, he quickly proceeded to examine the rest of her for injury.

He drew back the sheets and gasped when he saw the damage. She was completely naked. Anger welled up inside of him; it was clear from the blood stains that she had been raped. Her wrists were bruised, as though they had been held down against her will. He couldn't think of who would have the nerve to violate her this way.

He felt bile rise in his throat, and though he tried to force it down, it was too strong and the desire was too great. Spinning around, he made a dash for her bathroom. He made it just in time. He gripped the porcelain tightly, trying to regain a hold of himself. It tore at him to see her this way. He couldn't believe any human was capable of this level of damage. He wished the damn ambulance would just hurry up.

As he turned his head to the side, his breath caught in his throat and his knuckles whitened around the porcelain bowl. He couldn't think; he couldn't speak. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Her tub was filled with ice. Ice, thick ice, some in chunks, and some melting ice. It took him one moment to realize what must have happened, and in the next moment, he was leaning over the toilet bowl again. He retched until he had nothing left to heave, and then he straightened up and rinsed out his mouth, shaking.

Slowly and unsteadily he made his way back to Cameron. She hadn't moved since he had left her. He dropped to his knees beside her bed and grasped her limp hand in his. "It will be okay," he whispered, his voice slightly choked. "It will be okay."

TBC...

A/N: Well, uhm... not much to say here. Except that if ya'll kill us, this story will never get finished! (hides under sink)


	2. The Definition Of Emergency

Hey again, everyone! It's been a while since we've updated, but that's my fault. Around Christmas, I moved up to Tenessee, got job, and started the whole grown up adult thing. Go figure. (chuckles sinisterly) Anywho, I have the next chapter all set to post, so let's see some reviews, people!

Disclaimer: Not ours!

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

He rapped on the glass door, but entered without a response. "Lisa!"

Cuddy looked up. "What's wrong, Jimmy?"

"It's..." He felt the words on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't believe he had to formulate them. He cleared his throat. "It's, um, it's Cameron."

Instantly worry flooded her, and she stood up. "What about her? Is she okay?"

He tried to speak, but the words just wouldn't come. Hopelessly, he shook his head, trying to communicate nonverbally the gravity of the situation.

She stepped closer and rested her hands on his shoulders. Looking him in the eye, she gently squeezed his shoulders. "Jimmy, calm down," she murmured, fighting her own fear. "Now, tell me what happened."

He shook his head and pushed her hands away, pacing her office. He walked over to the wall and slapped his hand against it, dropping his head to the wall. He drew a deep breath and then whispered forcibly, "She was raped."

She froze, her heart suddenly pounding. "H-how do you know?" she finally asked.

"I..." The words died in his throat. He swallowed hard. "I - I found her - Lisa - the bleeding - it was - it had to be rape." No sooner had the words left his mouth when he sank to the couch, his head in his hands. "Lisa, oh God, Lisa, she was raped. Someone raped her. Some raped her!"

Fear froze her veins, and she quickly walked away from the room, walking with purpose as she hurried to reach the E.R.

"Dr. Cuddy!" House called from across the hall.

House's voice barely registered in Cuddy's mind, and it took a minute for her to stop and reply. "What do you want, House?"

He clicked his tongue. "Nothing. You misunderstood me. That wasn't a 'Dr. Cuddy, come here!' 'Dr. Cuddy', it was a 'Dr. Cuddy, nice ass' 'Dr. Cuddy'."

She just shook her head and continued to the E.R.

"What, no comeback?" he called after her retreating back.

"I don't have time to deal with you, Dr. House," she muttered.

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

She stopped and turned around, then crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm going to the E.R."

"Okay..." he said slowly. "Why?"

She drummed her fingers briefly against her arm. "Dr. Cameron... has been admitted," she said slowly.

His frown deepened. "What happened?"

"That's what I'm going to find out." She let out a deep breath. "She may have been raped."

House narrowed his eyes. "May have been? She either was or she wasn't. Which is it?"

"I just said that's what I'm going to find out!" she snapped.

"I'm coming with you."

She spun around on her heel and continued on her path to the E.R.

He limped along behind her. "When was she brought in?"

"Almost five minutes ago. Wilson came in with her."

"Wilson?"

She nodded. "He found her."

He narrowed his eyes. "Did he say she was raped?"

"He wasn't making much sense, but yes, he said he thinks she was raped."

"He say anything else about her?"

"That she was bleeding." She pointed at a stretcher that was surrounded by a flurry of movements. "There she is."

Cuddy pushed her way to the stretcher. "This is Dr. Cameron. What happened?" she demanded.

"Looks like blunt force trauma to the head and forced penetration," answered one of the doctors.

She struggled to maintain her composure. Licking her lips, she said, "Make sure there's a rape kit done. Has she regained consciousness?"

"No, not yet," the doctor responded gravely.

Leaning closer, she laid her hand on Cameron's arm and said gently, "Dr. Cameron, can you hear me?" There was no response, and Cuddy stepped back, allowing the others to work.

"Who would do this?" House growled.

Cuddy shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and pressing her hand to her mouth. "I don't know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn't even know she was seeing someone."

"I didn't either." "Did Wilson find anything in her apartment?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so. He could barely even tell me what happened."

"That doesn't mean he didn't see anything," House insisted.

"Then go ask him yourself!" she snapped.

"Where're Foreman and Chase?"

She looked down at the ground. "I haven't seen them. They're probably in the board room."

"Someone should tell them."

She nodded. "I'll... go tell them," she said quietly, turning around.

"Dr. Cuddy..." he called after her as she left.

"What?"

He looked at her seriously. "It'll be okay."

She nodded wordlessly, then walked away from the activity.

He looked back at Cameron's form, which was still surrounded by a flurry of movement from the E.R. doctors. Sighing, he left to go find Wilson.

Chase looked up from the crossword puzzle in front of him when the door opened, but the last person he expected to see walk through the door was their boss.

Foreman rose from his chair, tossing the newspaper aside. He caught Chase's eye, knowing they were both thinking the same thing: what did House do?

Cuddy was quiet for a moment as she attempted to gather her thoughts. Finally she said bluntly, "Dr. Cameron was... attacked this morning. She's in the E.R."

Foreman felt his jaw drop. "What - how?"

Chase didn't say anything. Nothing would come to mind that Foreman hadn't already covered. So he started to pace.

Cuddy looked at them. "We... won't know exactly what happened until she regains consciousness. Dr. Wilson found her a half hour ago, and all that we know for sure is that there was some head trauma, and possible internal bleeding."

Foreman's eyes narrowed. He could tell there was something Cuddy was leaving out. "Internal bleeding from what?"

She ran a hand through her hair. "Maybe you two should sit down," she said quietly, knowing how attached the two men had become to the only female duckling, despite the problems between all of them.

Chase wordlessly sat down in his chair again, then looked at her in grim expectance.

Foreman felt his breath catch in his throat. He thought he knew what was coming. "Was she...raped?"

"We don't know for sure... but yes, it does look like she was sexually assaulted." She couldn't believe the words even as she said them, and she folded her arms and pinched the bridge of her nose.

He could only stare in shock. "What - how - but why - who would do that to her?"

"I don't know," she said numbly. "That's what... I've been asking myself."

Chase shook his head in disbelief, then rose to his feet and brushed past Cuddy, walking out of the board room.

Cuddy watched his departure with sad eyes. Then she turned to Foreman. "I'm... going back to the E.R." She hated feeling useless, and right now, that was all she was feeling.

"Lisa..."

She looked at him. "What is it?"

He shook his head, unable to put his thoughts into words. All he could feel was utter shock, shock and hatred for whoever had the nerve to have done this. He shrugged hopelessly and the turned away.

She saw the hurt and confusion in his dark eyes, and when he turned, she reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. "I know," she whispered.

"They do a rape kit?"

"They hadn't done it yet when I was there."

"But they will do one," he said desperately.

"Yes, they will."

"Do they know how long it will be until she's awake?

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. House was with her when I left."

He nodded. "Can I see her?"

She was a little surprised, but she nodded. "She's still in the E.R." She understood his need to see for himself that she was still breathing.

He gave Cuddy a small smile and then left.

Alone in the room, she walked over to the board and studied it. Then she sat down heavily in the chair. And for the first time since she heard the news, she rested her head in her arms and let go.

TBC...

A/N: Well, there ya'll go. The next chapter is a reunion scene, so if ya'll want to see it, give us a shout! Thanks for reading!


	3. Keep Holding On

Okay, okay, here's the update, everyone! Thanks for staying with us on this! For a nice little treat, there's a special surprise in here for ya'll.

Disclaimer: Not ours!

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

Cuddy leaned heavily against the wall outside of Cameron's room. "Who's going in first?" she finally asked, eyeing the three men.

"I am," House said impatiently. He brushed past Cuddy in his attempt to get inside as quickly as possible.

He approached her bed cautiously, not wanting to startle her if she were awake. He watched her chest rise and fall slowly, signaling that she was still alive, yet he could not let go of the utter terror that she was dead. Someone had hurt her. Someone had raped her. For all they knew, he could have been trying to murder her.

He sat down beside her bed, gazing at her still form. He didn't really know what to say: when he opened his mouth, the words only caught in his throat. Instead, he just shook his head hopelessly and continued staring sadly at her lying on the bed.

After a moment or two, he realized his hand had slowly been inching his way towards hers. He looked quickly behind him, checking to see that no one was watching, and then he grabbed it.

"Cameron," he whispered. "What the hell happened?"

Consciousness returned to her in bits and pieces, and for several seconds, she reveled in that pleasant place between sleep and awareness. Her hand was being held in a much larger one, and as the pain returned, she shifted her hips and turned her head to the side. The action sent a splitting pain through the base of her skull, and she groaned.

He looked up when he heard her groaning. He squeezed her hand. "Come on, Cameron," he encouraged her softly. "Come on, open your eyes."

She heard a familiar voice, soft and comforting, and she struggled toward it. "H-House?" she whispered, her mouth dry.

"Come on, Cameron," he repeated.

She slowly forced her eyes open, blinking several times before her vision finally focused. Her hand tightened around his, and her free hand went to her head, brushing her fingertips lightly against her temple. But when she made contact, she hissed in pain and pulled her hand away.

"Relax," he said gruffly, as he felt her hand squeeze his in pain. "Don't move around."

She stopped moving, her eyes falling on his worried and haggard face. Then she looked around the room, still disoriented.

"Cameron," he said, trying to bring her attention back to him. "Do you remember what happened?"

She blinked slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. "Uh, no," she rasped, her throat hoarse from disuse and something else. "Wh-what happened?"

"It's unclear what really happened," he continued, trying to keep his voice low and calm, not wanting to frighten her. "But there is evidence of...rape."

Her breath hitched in her throat at the word, and she fumbled blindly for his hand, her only link to a life that she used to have, that she might not ever see again.

He squeezed her hand. "Do you remember anything?"

"N-no," she whispered, clutching his hand. "I d-don't. Why can't I remember?"

"It's probably just an after-effect of the head trauma," House reminded her gently.

Her head suddenly began pounding, and she turned onto her side, pulling the blanket tightly around herself. She didn't pull her hand away from his, but she closed her eyes and searched her memories for something... anything.

He looked at her seriously. "Did you leave the door open, maybe? Was it someone you knew?"

She continued to rack her brain. She had come home from work, pulling off her shoes. Then... _Oh God_... She suddenly couldn't get enough air into her lungs. Him on top of her... the blood.

"Cameron?" he asked, shaking her shoulder gently. "Cameron?"

She looked past him, her chest heaving as the memories assaulted her. Falling back against the pillows, tears trickled down her cheeks, and her stomach heaved violently.

Her eyes finally opened, but a pair of green eyes beyond House's concerned cerulean ones, and every muscle in her body locked. Unable to speak, she attempted to convey her fear by squeezing House's hand as tightly as she could bring herself to.

"What are you doing?" House demanded.

The young nurse had the presence to look startled. "I'm ch-checking her vitals," he answered, his voice slightly trembling.

"Get out! Get out!" House shouted at him. He could feel Cameron shaking beside him.

He stared at House for a moment, then scrambled out of the room.

House glared at the nurse as he left and then turned back to Cameron. He looked at her pale face. "What was it?"

She trembled, her hand still a vice around his hand. "His e-eyes," she finally whispered, shuddering almost violently.

House frowned, trying to remember the color. "Green?"

She managed a small nod.

He touched her cheek softly with his free hand. "Do you remember anything else?"

She shut her eyes, unconsciously leaning into his hand. "H-he hit me," she whispered in a lost voice. "I w-was awake... I felt it..."

He nodded, urging her to continue.

"H-he wouldn't s-stop... And when he was... done..." She raised her hand to her mouth and stifled a sob. "He h-hit me again... and I don't remember anything e-else..."

Anger wrenched his gut. So she had been raped. The room seemed to be spinning. Though he knew she probably had been, he was still holding onto the last hope that it wasn't true. Now that hope was gone. "We need to do a rape kit," he mumbled.

She looked at him, fear evident in her eyes. "N-no," she pleaded softly. "No..."

"Cameron."

She searched his eyes, then shut her eyes. "Please, House... I don't want to..."

"You have to." He could not help but let the urgency and frustration creep into his tone.

She shook her head slowly. "I c-can't..."

"Yes, you can," he insisted.

She pressed her hand against her mouth. She knew he was right, but she couldn't bring herself to be violate like that again. She knew what a rape kit entailed. And she just couldn't do it.

"Cameron, please," he begged her.

Her eyes opened again, looking for reassurance, for anything. Finally, in a defeated whisper, she said, "Okay."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Cuddy's outside. Do you want me to get her?"

She nodded, then reached out to him again. "Please... don't go?" she asked quietly, uncertain.

"I'll come back," he promised.

She reluctantly released him and pulled the blanket over herself again.

House left the room quickly, intent on returning as soon as possible. "Dr. Cuddy!" he called.

Cuddy turned away from Wilson and looked at House with worry and anxiety. "What is it, House? Is she awake?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes," House answered. "We need a rape kit."

Cuddy walked away from the group, returning a few minutes later with the kit in her trembling hands. "Is she... I mean, am I?"

House nodded. "She wants me in there with her."

She swallowed a small groan and nodded. "Okay."

He followed her inside the room.

Cuddy walked up to the bed, smiling warmly at Cameron. "Hey, Allison," she said softly.

Cameron looked at her, then averted her eyes. "Hi," she muttered quietly.

Cuddy looked at House, then pulled up another chair beside Cameron's bed. "House told you?" she murmured, resting her hand on the bed.

Cameron nodded wordlessly.

Cuddy studied her for a minute. "Are you ready?" she asked gently, struggling to keep herself together.

Cameron opened her eyes, looking for House.

He met her gaze and slowly took her hand in his. He nodded to Cuddy.

Taking a deep breath, Cuddy stood up and pulled her chair to the foot of the bed. "Cameron... I need you to hold your ankles together, and let your legs relax," she instructed the younger woman gently.

Cameron followed her instructions slowly, shivering when Cuddy lifted the blanket away from the lower half of her body. She gripped House's hand tightly, and tears leaked from her tightly shut eyes.

"Relax, Cameron," House told her gently.

She complied.

Cuddy continued the task as carefully and as gently as she could, and a few minutes later, she pulled the blanket over Cameron again and forced a smile. "All done."

Cameron didn't answer her. Instead, she scooted over in the bed, closer to House, and relaxed against the pillows.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked as he heard Cuddy leaving. "Wilson's outside too if you want to see him."

She didn't move. "I don't care," she whispered. "Just... please stay."

"He found you, you know," he told her.

She flinched. "Oh, God."

"Cameron, relax," he said, bringing his other hand to her cheek again. "It's..."

He tried to finish with "all right", but the words just couldn't come. Nothing was "all right". The fact that his best friend was shakier than House had ever seen him just added to the pile of things that were not "all right". House didn't know what Wilson had found in her apartment, but he knew that it could be nothing good.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, trembling again. Searching for the right words, she finally gave up and said in a quiet voice, "I'm cold..."

He pulled her top-most blanket closer to her chin. "Does that help? I can get another one for you, if you want."

She tried to will warmth into her body, but even the blanket didn't help. The cold she was feeling wasn't something that could easily be warded off with a thin, scratchy hospital blanket. But she didn't want to worry him any more, so she said, "It's fine."

He sensed her unease. "I'll find you another one." He stood up from his chair.

An unexplainable, irrational fear seized her, and she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Please..." She struggled with herself. "It's fine."

He shook his head. "I'll be right back," he promised again.

She forced herself to release his hand, and she turned onto her opposite side, staring at the wall on the other side of the room. The door shut, and she found herself alone with the demons in her mind.

House walked briskly out of the room and called out for a nurse. One came running over, and he told her what she wanted. She ran off to retrieve another blanket. While waiting, House walked over to where Wilson was sitting with his head in his hands.

"I want you to see her," he said gruffly.

Wilson looked up. "Why?"

House growled low in his throat. "You both need this. I told her you were the one that found her." Wilson looked mortified, but House continued anyway. "You need to see her."

The nurse came up to House and handed him the blanket. House promptly handed it to Wilson. "Bring this to her, will you? Tell her I'll be back in a bit."

"House!" Wilson called after his friend's retreating back. House didn't look back. Resigned for the worst, Wilson walked slowly to Cameron's room. He knocked uncertainly and then entered.

Cameron lifted her head from the pillow. "House?" she called hopefully.

Wilson shook his head. "He'll be back soon. He told me to give this to you." He offered her the blanket.

She accepted the blanket. "Thank you," she said softly.

He was here now, like House had wanted him to be, but he had no idea what to say to her. Knowing what he knew, having seen what he had, he knew it was possible he knew more about what had happened than she did. If she was unconscious during the part where...no, he didn't want to think about it.

She finally turned and looked at him. Uncertain, she finally said, "Thank you... for everything."

_If only she knew_, he thought sadly to himself.

He took a tentative step closer to her bed and sat down in the seat House had previously occupied. After a moment, he touched her forehead with his hand. Unwillingly, he remembered the feeling of her blood beneath his fingertips. He shuddered and quickly drew back.

She closed her eyes, then reached out and tentatively squeezed his hand.

He squeezed her hand back. "Did House tell you everything?"

"I remember," she whispered. "I remember everything..."

He felt tears well up in his eyes and he blinked to keep them from falling. There was no way she knew, no way she could have possibly known, could have possibly remembered. It hurt him so much to know what had happened...and she didn't know...Perhaps it was better that way. She didn't have to know.

She squeezed his hand again, pulling the blankets tighter around herself. "Wilson... please talk to me."

He shook his head furiously. "You don't want to know," he muttered to himself.

"No. I mean... about anything. Please..."

He looked at her. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"Don't care." She met his eyes, then laced her fingers through his. "Anything. What's your favorite color?"

He laughed, a hollow laugh that almost seemed surreal. "Uh...blue. Yours?"

"Periwinkle. What's your favorite time of the year?" She was desperate to take her mind off the memories that were plaguing her, and this was working a little.

"Autumn. I love it when the leaves change." He looked at her, waiting for her response.

"Summer. I love to swim." She tucked her arm carefully under her head, the tension slowly fading from her body. "What's your favorite kind of ice cream?"

"None. I'm allergic to milk." She stared at him and he chuckled. "Kidding. I like vanilla."

She returned his smile shyly. "I like Rocky Road, with lots of chocolate syrup."

There was a knock on the door and then House entered. The corners of his mouth twitched when he saw Wilson. He limped over to the bed and sat down where Cuddy had previously been. "Miss me?" he asked Cameron jokingly.

She couldn't explain the sudden sense of security that took hold when she heard his voice, but she didn't question it. She simply turned a little and offered her free hand to him.

He took her hand, gripping it gently. He nodded to Wilson, silently asking him if everything was okay. Wilson nodded slightly in return.

"I should go," Wilson said. "I need to talk to Cuddy."

"Thank you," Cameron murmured again.

He squeezed her hand one last time and then released it. "You're welcome," he whispered.

She settled her head against the pillows again, never releasing House's hand as she watched Wilson leave. When the door shut, she let out a shaky breath.

He stroked her hand gently. "What's wrong?"

For a moment, she couldn't make her voice work. Then she choked out, "Everything."

He hesitated a split second and then said, "Talk to me."

"About... what?"

"Anything. Everything. Whatever is wrong, which you say is everything."

She dropped her chin to her chest and breathed shakily. "I'm scared, it hurts everywhere, and I want to go home. But it's never going to be home again. I'll never be... able to go into that room, and not feel like it's happening all over again!" She couldn't stop the onslaught of tears that dripped down her cheeks and wet the blanket in her lap.

He froze. This was what he was not good at. Comforting. Handling emotions. He didn't know what to say; what did she expect him to say? Tentatively, he reached out his other hand and rubbed small circles on her back, trying to get her to calm down. The last thing he needed was for her to make herself pass out.

She started a little at the touch, but to her own quiet surprise, there was no fear there. And she was amazed at that.

He hesitated for a moment, stopping the circles, and then held out his free arm.

She looked at his arm, expecting to feel some kind of negative emotion. But there wasn't one, and she scooted over in the bed, closer to him, then leaned into his embrace.

He wondered if she expected him to say anything. He supposed that he should at least try to say something comforting. He could only hope he didn't say anything stupid.

"I know it's hard right now," he began softly. "But things will get better...eventually. No one has to be miserable forever, you know?"

She silently pulled his other arm around her and nestled against him. Since waking up, this was the safest she had felt, and she wasn't about to give it up. The cold was finally gone, and she whispered, "I know." Then she snuggled deeper into his arms and sighed softly, finally giving into sleep.

TBC...

A/N: Well, there ya'll have it. Cameron's awake, and she's getting exactly what she needs. A little comfort from our favorite blue eyed nut. Thanks for reading, people, and please remember to review!


	4. Night Terrors

Wow, ya'll are great! We've gotten so many reviews in the last couple of days, so we're updating again! Thanks for reading, everyone, and please review, cause we've got the next chapter all ready to post!

Disclaimer: Not ours!

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

Cuddy sat at her desk, staring blankly at a file she was supposed to be working on. But her thoughts kept straying to the younger doctor on the other side of the hospital, and she rested her head in her hand and sighed.

He opened the door slowly, knocking softly on the wood to announce his presence. "Lisa?"

She lifted her head and managed a smile for him. "Hi, Jimmy," she greeted him quietly.

He returned her smile nervously. He had thinking about what he had to do the entire way to her office. He had left as soon as House had arrived to stay with Cameron. He knew he had to tell her.

She closed the file and set it aside. "What's the matter?"

He couldn't answer right away, but sank down onto her couch. He brought his head to his hands and rubbed his forehead. "It's..." He sighed. "I don't really know what to say."

She stood up and sat down beside him, resting her head against the back of the couch. "Well..." she started. "I'm here."

He squeezed her shoulder. "I know."

She covered his hand with hers. "I didn't get to... talk to her. How is she doing?"

"She's doing all right, all things considered," he answered quietly. "We didn't really talk about...it."

She nodded again. "She will... eventually."

He nodded and squeezed her hand.

She thought for a minute. "Jimmy... everyone's been worried about her, especially you. How are you doing?"

"I am..." He tried to say fine, but the words just wouldn't come.

She hesitated a moment before sliding her arm around her shoulders and squeezing him gently. "You're not okay, Jimmy," she murmured, protectively squeezing his hand. "I know you better than that."

"I'm better off than Cameron."

"But you still need help," she insisted gently. "Talk to me."

He shook his head tiredly. "It's fine, Lisa."

She eyed him critically. "Something happened. You saw something, or you heard something. But whatever it is..." She reached out and gently grasped his chin, gently urging him to meet her eyes. "It's tearing you up, and I can see it in your eyes."

He closed his eyes and turned away. "All right," he said finally. "I saw something."

"What did you see?" she murmured, her thumb absently tracing circles over his skin.

He hesitated a split second longer, and then whispered, "Ice."

"What?"

"Ice, Lisa! I saw ice, all right!"

She was startled by his outburst, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she drew him into her arms and held him tightly. "Slow down," she whispered against his ear.

"It - in her bathroom - the tub - it was filled - with - with - ice!"

_Ice... Oh, God..._ She rested her head on his shoulder. _Why would there be ice?_ _Unless... no_... She shuddered involuntarily.

"I - we can't - I mean - I don't know for sure - but - I mean - What else would ice be there for?" he asked weakly.

He felt bile building up in his throat again as revulsion forced its way to the top. He swallowed hard and burst out, "I - I just - I mean - he - he raped her - when she was c-cold - on p-purpose! He - he wanted her to feel cold against him." He shook heavily. "I - I think he wanted to - to pretend that she was d - dead."

She shivered a little. "Jimmy... you can't think about that right now. Just... be glad... she's okay. She was hurt, but she's alive. She'll get through this, with our help."

"She doesn't know," he whispered.

"And she doesn't need to. Not right now."

He sighed. "I just...can't believe...Who would be that sick?"

"I don't know, Jimmy. I really don't know."

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

Sweat was pouring down her neck and back, and a small, strangled cry escaped her lips as she bolted upright in the bed. Sunlight was bleeding into the room through the window, and her chest heaved as her wide eyes skittered around the room.

"Please no... no..." she choked out, bringing her hand up to her neck as her other hand pulled her blanket up to her neck.

No one was in the room, and finally she settled back against the pillows, her pulse still racing.

Groaning softly, she turned onto her side and tucked her arm under her head, careful not to disturb the I.V. in her other arm. A tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away, cursing silently.

"Why are you crying?"

She jumped at the intruder's voice, then wiped at her eyes again. "House?" she mumbled.

He stepped closer to her bed. "What happened?"

She averted her eyes and pulled her blanket a little closer. "N-nothing."

He frowned at her and shook his head slightly. "Tell me."

"Nothing happened!" she snapped. "It was just a nightmare. I can handle it."

He took another tentative step forward and then sat down in the chair next to her bed. "You can't handle it."

"D-don't tell me what I can and can't handle, House. I got through it fine." She sat up in the bed and buried a hand in her hair.

"You're not fine."

"House..." She shook her head. "You d-don't know what I'm feeling, or what I'm going through. I don't even know. But right now, I am fine!"

"Cameron." He looked at her sternly, willing her to listen to him, to believe him. "It's okay to not be fine."

She turned her head and stared at the wall as a single tear slid down her cheek and hit her blanket.

"Talk to me."

Shaking her head, she looked down and picked at the blanket. "No."

"Cameron..."

Her entire body shook. "N-no, House," she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly. "No."

"It's okay to be afraid."

"House... please. I don't want to... I can't..."

"You can't not talk about it."

"I'm not going to talk about it." She pushed herself out of the bed, grabbing the I.V. pole and testing her legs before she took an uncertain step, then another.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to think." She made it to the wall, then back to the bed. Once she was sure she wouldn't fall, she began walking around the room. "I'm going crazy in that damn bed."

"I want to talk."

"And I don't." She stopped and stared at him. "You never want to talk."

He shrugged. "Now I do."

"Well, I don't want to talk." She reached the wall at the other end of the room and rested her palm there, lowering her head.

"But you need to talk."

"Fine. I need to talk. But I'm not doing it right now." She looked around the room, swallowing thickly. "Don't you have a case to work on? Maybe you need to go harass Chase or Foreman."

"I'm having too much fun harassing you."

"Well, maybe the guys miss you. I'm a big girl." Her legs felt stronger, and she pushed herself off of the wall again and resumed pacing.

"I miss you."

She stopped mid-pace and stared at him. "Bull."

"You've changed," House said, his tone laced with bitterness. "This changed you. I miss the old you. I want her back."

She continued to stare at him, unsure of whether to believe him. He had a way of lying to get what he wanted. But in this case, what the hell could he want? For her to talk? That just didn't sound like the man she knew. But for all she knew right now, maybe he really did just want her to talk. Rubbing her temple, she finally moved slowly across the floor, wordlessly sitting down beside him.

She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. "I'm not different," she finally said in a small voice. "You're right... I'm... I'm scared..."

"You don't have to be afraid anymore," he said softly.

"But I am."

"You're afraid of what's in your head. Your memories. Just tell me what happened. Then you won't have to be alone anymore."

"I just... I don't... think I can..."

"Just...talk me through what happened."

She looked around the room, and her blue green eyes finally settled on him. "Get me out of here."

He frowned. "What?"

"I want out of here. Now." She shuddered. "Please."

He looked at her, his blue eyes surveying her with concern. "Okay," he said finally. "Let's go."

She stood up and watched him expectantly.

He led her from the room and spoke to the nurse at the call station. When she tried to reach for the phone to call Dr. Cuddy, he slammed the receiver down again. "Keep this one on the DL."

The nurse just looked at him in surprised as Dr. House led Dr. Cameron away, and once his back was turned, she shook her head and sat down again to a file.

"Where are we going?" he asked her as they headed for the doors.

"I don't know," she answered quietly. "I don't really care right now."

"I want to go to your apartment."

She shuddered. "Why?"

"Because I want to know what happened. You said we would talk. Let's talk."

Her eyes widened, and she said numbly, "I c-can't..."

"Talk? Yes you can. You're talking right now."

"You know that's not what I mean!" she snapped, her throat suddenly dry. "I don't... why would you... Why would you want to even see that?"

"I want to know."

"Why would you want to know that? House!" She turned and faced him, her heart pounding.

"Knowing is better than not knowing. I can't treat you if I don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong! I was RAPED! I am not one of your cases! I know what happened, and that's bad enough! But I will not go through however long I know you with the fact that you know what happened!"

"Breathe, Cameron," he prodded her gently.

She turned away and stared up into the blue gray sky. When she finally faced him again, tears stained her cheeks, and she finally said in a tiny voice, "House..."

"Please," he said quietly. "I need to see this."

"Why? Why do you need to see where I was raped? Why is this so important to you?"

He sighed. "I just...I just have to know."

She stared at him blankly. "House, I am n-not one of your... puzzles that you have to solve!" Her tears were falling faster, and no matter how fast she wiped them away, they came back. "I... just..." Her shoulders finally slumped in defeat, and she held her hands out in front of her in a gesture of defeat. "F-fine, House. I'll... I'll go..."

He stared at her for a moment, and then nodded approvingly. He reached out as squeezed her shoulder. "Come on then," he said gruffly.

She turned her head and stared at his hand, then followed him numbly.

TBC...

A/N: Oooh... cliffie! Review!


	5. Cold

We're back, everyone! This chapter is for a special fan who's been bugging me to update this. Here ya go!

Disclaimer: Not ours!

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

The bottom dropped from her stomach when she looked up and realized that they were standing in front of the door of her apartment. Every fiber in her wanted to turn and run, but something kept her there. Just what that something was, however, she didn't know.

He urged her forward. "Come on, Cameron."

She followed him numbly through the open door. Her eyes went to the floor, where her shoes and socks still laid in disarray, where she had left them. A bottle of red wine from the night before her attack sat on the counter, still unopened. Something rustled, and she jumped violently.

"Relax," he said quietly. "It's okay." He slowly walked through her kitchen, pausing at everything, letting his eyes miss nothing. He finally reached her bedroom. It wasn't until then that he noticed Cameron was no longer beside him.

He looked back. "I'll just be a minute."

She wasn't even aware of his voice. All of her concentration was focused on not screaming or throwing up, or both.

He pushed open the door and entered her bedroom slowly. Her sheets were in disarray, and there were bloodstains on the bed spread. Anger welled inside of him, and he fought hard to keep himself from crying out in fury. He slowly brought his fingers to her bed and ran them along the sheets. He swallowed hard.

The bathroom door was ajar, and for some reason, that caught his attention. Tentatively, he stepped closer and peered inside. He could smell vomit, and he realized a moment later with a pang of remorse that Wilson had gotten sick. As he finished inspecting the toilet seat, his eye caught something much, much worse than anything he had seen yet.

He would have been able to keep it together if it hadn't been for he ice. It was almost all melted now, forming a deep pool of cold water, but he could still see bits and chunks floating around. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. In that moment, he wished they had never come here.

Cameron blinked slowly and, realizing that House was in her bedroom, hesitated before following him. When she reached the door, she saw the rigidity of his back, and she reached out to touch his shoulder warily.

He whipped around. "Cameron, get out!"

His loud voice startled her, and she instantly choked on her own breath at the harshness. She spun around and moved out of the bedroom as fast as her legs would carry her.

He followed her quickly. "I - we - we shouldn't have come here. We can leave now. I'm done."

She stared at him, anger burning deep inside her. "You..." She pointed a shaking finger at him. "You made me come up here..." She tried to brush past him, to see what had spooked him so badly.

"Cameron," he said firmly, bringing out his hands to hold her back. "Cameron, let's go. You need to get back to the hospital."

She shoved his hands away. "What did you see?" she demanded, glaring at the wall as though she could see through it.

"Nothing."

She stared at him. "Nothing my ass," she spat, pushing by him.

"Cameron - no!" He tried to lunge at her, but his bad leg wouldn't allow it.

She swept past him and through the door, her stomach churning at the sight of the blood on the bed. She looked around the room, her eyes finally coming to rest on the bedroom. Taking a step forward, her heart began to pound viciously against her ribcage as she saw the bathtub. Ice... She shivered involuntarily, and she managed to reach the trash basket she kept by the wall before her stomach revolted.

He found her on the floor by her trash basket. Crouching beside her, he rubbed her back as she coughed and sputtered. "It's okay," he murmured. "You'll be okay."

She continued to heave into the basket, until nothing was left in her stomach. She dry heaved, then leaned against the wall, drawing her legs up to her chest.

"I did warn you," he said quietly.

"I didn't want to come here!" she rasped, wiping her mouth.

"You didn't have to come back here," he reminded her.

She glared at him, then rose unsteadily to her feet. Her entire body felt wrung out, and she walked slowly to the door leading back into the living room.

He picked himself up from the floor and followed her out of the room. "You're right."

"I don't care." She picked up her gym bag off of the floor with shaking hands, then went back into the bedroom, shutting the door of the bathroom. Then she pulled out her drawers and began shoving clothes into the bag.

"I can hear you caring!" he called after her.

She paused at his voice, then shook her head as tears fell again. Finally the bag was full, and she collected a couple more items from the top of the desk, then walked back into the living room. Setting the bag on the couch, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.

"Cameron..."

She shook her head. Her back was facing him, and when she felt him come up behind her, it startled her so bad that she dropped the glass. It hit the floor and shattered into slivers and shards, and all she could do was stare at it.

House walked wordlessly to the closet and pulled out a broom and dust pan. He crouched to the ground and began sweeping them into the pan. When he had finished, he threw the pieces into the trash can.

"Some things are fixed more easily than others," he said softly.

She shook her head and picked up the bag again. "Let's go," she said tonelessly. "I want to go back to the hospital." Right now, it was the only place she felt remotely safe.

"Are you okay?"

She looked at him, her eyes dull. "Do I look okay?" she asked bitterly, walking past him.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Cameron..."

She pulled her arm away and chewed on her lower lip. "I just... want to leave here, House. Now."

He considered her for a moment and then reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "You need to tell the police," he said seriously.

She headed toward the door. "I know I do."

"Are you going to?"

"I don't know."

"Cameron..."

She shook her head. "Don't even, House."

He looked at the ceiling. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"With you? No, not really." She grabbed the door and pulled it open.

"Wait!"

She stopped against her better judgment. "What?"

"I'm sorry."

She turned around fully and stared at him. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Because...I'm sorry we came here."

She stiffened. "Yeah, well, I am, too..."

"We shouldn't have come here - I shouldn't have made you come here."

"I could have told you that," she said bitterly.

"Cameron...I really am sorry."

She knew he was telling the truth, and tears pricked at her eyes. Tears that she refused to let fall. So she just nodded and gripped her bag tighter. "Let's go. Please?"

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Thank you." She slung the bag over her shoulder and walked through the door, glad to be out of the apartment.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

Cuddy was pacing impatiently in front of Cameron's room when she finally saw House, and she stormed up to him. "What the hell were you thinking, House?" she growled.

"Erm...That I would go to Cameron's apartment?"

Her eyes widened in shock. "You didn't... How stupid can you possibly be, House?"

His eyes narrowed. "She was raped. In her own apartment."

"And you took her back there, didn't you? Didn't you?"

There was no point in lying. "Yes."

Her hands shook furiously, and she growled through gritted teeth, "You took her out of here, AMA, back to the place where the worst assault she's ever endured took place? How heartless are you?"

"My heart is as cold as yours, dear Cuddy."

She glared at him. "This is a new low, even for you, House." She spun around on her heel and stalked away.

"Cameron?"

Cameron lifted her head, surprised to see Wilson standing in her door. "What?"

He hesitated slightly, and then stepped forward tentatively. "I just - um - just -" He took a deep breath to steady himself. "How - um - how are you?"

She shook her head. "I'll be honest. I've been better."

He nodded. "Of course," he said softly.

She sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh. Resting one hand in her thick, tangled hair, she whispered, "You saw it, didn't you?"

He sat down on the edge of her bed and looked at his hands. "Yes."

"I don't remember."

"Cameron," he whispered, feeling pain tear at his heart. It was bad enough having to see it himself, but for her to have seen it...it was unthinkable. He reached out and squeezed her hand. "It's okay."

She shook her head, but didn't pull her hand away. "No, it's not."

"It's okay that you don't remember."

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "It hurts, Jimmy..." she whispered, not turning her head to look at him. "It hurts."

He wrapped his arm around her shaking shoulders. "I know," he murmured into her hair. "I know."

She struggled against him for a moment before finally giving in and collapsing against him. Sobs shook her entire body, and she gripped the front of his shirt in her fist.

"I'm so, so sorry, Allison."

"I r-remember... pieces of it...:" She shuddered violently against him. "I remember..."

"Shh," he comforted her as she trembled in his arms. "It's okay, it's okay. You don't have to remember..."

She shut her eyes tightly as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I was... s-so afraid... Oh, God..."

She gulped and tried to catch her breath, unable to continue. So she continued to hold onto the man who was holding her and doing his best to help.

And even through this, even through the hell that he had just subjected her to, she still wanted House there. As safe as Jimmy felt, she needed something else. Something that only that blue eyed son of a bitch could give her. Wiping at her tears, she finally pulled away from him and said quietly, "Thank you..."

He nodded knowingly her. "Do you want me to get him?"

She managed a tiny smile. "How did you know?"

Wilson shrugged. "Instinct, I guess."

She slowly scooted back, until she was leaning back against the pillows. "I'm glad you do."

He left the bed slowly and offered her a small smile before exiting the room.

"House!" Wilson called as he let the door swing shut behind him. "House!"

He appeared, preceded by his customary uneven step. "You called?"

Wilson nodded. "She wants you in there."

He frowned slightly, but didn't answer, and instead pushed his way past Wilson into her room.

She heard him enter the room, and she slowly raised her head and offered him a ghost of a smile. "Hey..."

"Hey."

She struggled with herself for a few minutes before finally saying, "Thanks...for coming."

"Why are you thanking me? You didn't even want to go."

She stiffened. "I was thanking you for coming in here. I won't thank you for taking me back there."

"Right," he said, walking slowly towards the bed. "You might want to clarify that next time."

She moved away from him. "I shouldn't have had to!"

"I may be brilliant, but I'm not a mind reader."

She stood up and began pacing the confined space. "Why? Why would you want to do that to me?"

"Lay down," he commanded. "You should rest."

"No! No, I'm not going to!" she snapped irritably. "I don't want to sit down. And I sure as hell don't have to."

"Cameron, be reasonable."

"No! I don't have to be! I was raped! If I want to pace, I'm going to pace!"

He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and forced her down onto the bed. "Do you want to get better? You have to rest!"

She grabbed her hands and shoved them away, fire in her eyes. "Don't touch me..." she hissed through gritted teeth.

He walked away from her. "Why did you want me to come here anyway?"

"I don't even know now!"

"Fine. I'm leaving. General Hospital is on."

"Good. Go bury yourself in your stupid soaps." She turned her back on him to hide her tears. "I don't even want you here."

"Bye then!" he said in mock sweetness as he pulled open the door.

She pressed her hand to her mouth as the tears fell from her eyes. She didn't want him to leave. She wanted him to hold her, so that she could feel some sense of safety. But it was painfully clear that wasn't going to happen.

"House..."

He paused, and then dropped his outstretched hand. "Yes?"

She brushed her tears away, then headed toward the window. "Never mind..."

He hesitated, caught in his moment of indecision. He didn't know what to say, so instead he said nothing at all, and pulled open the door.

Her legs felt like rubber, so she made her way over to the bed and sat down with a heavy sigh. Her chest was aching, and her entire body began to shake as tears leaked from her eyes.

She heard the door close, and she sat there for several more minutes, until she could move again. Then she grabbed her duffle bag and moved to the door.

She had to get out. More than anything, she had to get away from him. So she headed to the one place where she knew she could clear her mind.

TBC...

A/N: Aww, poor Cameron. Next chapter: Drama, angst, and bad stuff galore! Mwahaha! So review, please, and we'll update again soon!


	6. Only Here For A Little While

Hola, everyone! We've been working like crazy on this story, and I really hope ya'll enjoy this chapter...

Disclaimer: Is Cameron molesting House in a janitor's closet? No? Then they're not ours.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

House sighed as he knocked on the hard wood. He wasn't one for apologies, but Wilson had insisted that he at least see Cameron again and at least _try _to say something nice. He had gone more to shut Wilson up than anything else. Well, no, maybe that wasn't true, but he wasn't about to admit that.

"Cameron?"

There was no answer. He didn't really expect one. Knowing her, she was probably still too angry to talk. He knocked again, louder this time.

"Cameron, open up!"

Still nothing. House tried to handle; it was unlocked.

He opened the door slowly, not wanting to scare her into a panic attack, but a moment later, he froze.

She wasn't there.

He spun around. "Where the hell is Dr. Cameron?" he asked loudly.

One of the nurses blinked at him stupidly. "You mean she isn't here?"

"No, she's not here, you idiot! Would I be asking you where she was if she were here?"

The nurse just opened and closed her mouth. Then she turned around and backed slowly away.

"I want to see Dr. Cameron NOW! Where the hell is she?"

"House!"

House turned around at Cuddy's yell. "What are you yelling about?"

"Why are you terrorizing the nurses again?" she demanded angrily,

"Because," he began testily, "one of my doctors has gone missing!"

She looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

He threw open the door. "Cameron! She's not here!"

She peered into the empty hospital room. "Where could she have gone?"

"Was she allowed to check out?"

"No, of course not! She wasn't supposed to be discharged for three days."

"Was she moved anywhere?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

She glared at him. "Of course I'm sure."

"It's your hospital. YOUR job to know what's going on over here."

She glared at him again, then turned around and looked at the nurse he had terrorized a few minutes earlier. "Notify security. I want Dr. Cameron found now."

"How is security going to help?" he asked angrily. "She's probably left the hospital by now."

"Think, House. You know her better than any of us. Where could she have gone?"

"What's going on?"

House turned around. "The dean of medicine has managed to lose one of my doctors," he told Wilson.

"I did not!" she snapped. She turned to Wilson. "Cameron walked out. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"

Wilson furrowed his brow. "Walked out? Oh - um..."

"Come on, think!" House prodded him. "You like people. Has she ever told you anything interesting? Anything she likes to do?"

Wilson shrugged. "She told me she likes to swim. But only in summer. That season's over now."

House's eyes widened. "So where does one go swimming in fall?"

"There's a rec center less than a mile from here."

House nodded as he took the information in. It seemed to make sense. "I'm going to find her."

Cuddy held her hand up. "You have a shift to finish."

House opened his mouth to protest, but Wilson got there first. "Lisa..."

Her hand dropped to her side. She knew she wasn't going to win this. "Fine. Go. Find her."

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

Cameron sighed deeply as she stood in front of the locker. Her entire body was soaked, but the dip had done little to replenish her spirits. She reached into her gym bag and pulled out a clean shirt.

A noise startled her, and she looked around. "Hello?"

When no one answered, she shrugged a little. Her mind was probably playing tricks on her. She pulled the t-shirt on over her bathing suit.

Once she was covered again, she wrapped the towel around her head and began rubbing her hair dry, losing herself in the task.

She continued to scrub her hair as she finally sat down on the bench between the lockers.

When her hair was finally more dry, she slipped the t-shirt off and set it beside her, then reached over and grabbed one strap of the bathing suit, pulling it down.

"Hey babe," he whispered. "You won't get away this time." He slammed his fist into the side of her head and she collapsed immediately. He lowered her to the ground with a low laugh and then continued pulling down her suit.

House entered the rec center quickly and walked up to the receptionist desk. There was only one person there, a woman reading a magazine. House reached her and pushed the magazine away from her face.

"Hi there. Has Allison Cameron visited you recently?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "I'm not sure. Can you describe her?"

House clicked his tongue. "Tall. Skinny. Long brown hair. Very sexy."

"With a navy blue gym bag? Yeah, she came in about an hour ago."

"She came in but didn't leave?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Great! Where's the women's locker room?"

"You can't go back there."

"Why not? I have breasts. Not as full as yours, maybe, but they'll still qualify."

"But you're not a woman," she argued, returning to her magazine.

He pushed it away from her face, this time with more force. "Look!" he said angrily. "Allison Cameron left unauthorized from the hospital. She could have serious complications following a very serious trauma that could be very bad for your business if something were to happen. I'm a doctor, all right? I'm here to bring her back to the hospital."

"I don't see a lab coat."

House rolled his eyes. "Hello!" he exclaimed, drawing out the vowels. "I'm a cripple. We don't wear lab coats."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure."

House sighed loudly. "Just let me see her, please."

She frowned, then finally consented. "Down the hall and on the right."

House tore off without saying thank you.

Her awareness returned in slivered pieces, but the pain registered almost immediately. She forced her eyes open, and a strangled scream escaped her throat as she tried to free her arms.

"No, no!" he said smoothly. "Not this time, darling."

She tried to move her hips, but he was too heavy. "L-Let me go!"

He suddenly grasped her throat. "Stop moving!" he ordered loudly.

She choked and tried desperately to free her arm. She tried to scream again, but all that came out was a small squeak.

His grasp tightened around her neck. "Shut up, SHUT UP!"

She managed to free her hand, and she hit it weakly against his chest.

"Oh no. No more of that," he said angrily. Keeping one hand around her neck, he ruffled through his bag with the other and pulled out a full syringe. "You're going to be sorry you ever even tried." He laughed loudly as he drove the syringe into her neck.

She felt the needle slide into her neck, and terror swept over her as her hand fell limply to the floor. She tried to scream again, but no sounds came out.

Still laughing, he redressed her in the swimsuit and then picked her up. Her body lay limp in his arms. Excitement coursed through him, but he knew he couldn't do anything just yet. He carried her out to the pool and then threw her into the water.

_Oh, God, no!_ she screamed mentally as her body hit the water. She willed her body to work, anything to work as the water swirled around her. But her muscles refused to cooperate. Her head slipped under the water, and the water instantly invaded her nose. Her last conscious thought before the darkness claimed her was, _Please, no_...

TBC...

A/N: (runs away from angry mob with pitchforks)


	7. Flames Are For Marshmallows

Because of some recent, very cruel and unnecessary flaming by people who don't even have the guts to sign in, I turned off my anonymous review thing. I'm tired of people who have nothing better to do than sit around and put people down for working and putting themselves out there. Don't get me wrong, I love when people critique my work. But there's a difference between helpful critique and pure harassment.

If a story is so horrible that it makes you sick reading it, STOP READING. It's a waste of everyone's time. And have the guts to sign in and review. That's just bad form otherwise. Also, if you're going to sit there and accuse, be sure you know what you're talking about before you talk (ie: I _did_ warn people this would be a rape fic. Check out the AN in chapter one, and get your stories straight, NOW). Put your mind (or lack thereof) in gear before putting your fat mouth in motion.

And name calling? What are you, in the fifth grade? You cannot stand people who have it in them to work on something for so long and put it out there? Heaven forbid there are more people out there who are creative like me. Get real and grow up.

So in short SACF, get a life and stop harassing people who enjoy what they do, or grow a pair, sign in and deal with what people have to say about YOU.

To everyone else who enjoys this story, thanks for continuing to read. I appreciate it very much, and hope you weren't too bothered with my section above.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMD

He burst into the locker room. "Cameron?"

There was no answer. House walked all around the locker room, looking in all the locker areas, in all the bathroom stalls, and in all the showers. Nothing. No Cameron, no anyone else.

She wasn't there. He frowned. That wasn't possible. The receptionist, dense though she was, said Cameron hadn't left. And he hadn't passed Cameron leaving the locker room. That only left one way out. The pool.

He walked through the locker room to the door that led to the pool area. No one was swimming...but the pool wasn't empty.

House's heart leapt to his throat. As fast as his lame leg would carry him, he ran to the edge of the pool where a body was floating. He recognized the hair immediately. It was Cameron. Fear filled him. How long had she been under?

She was floating near the edge of the pool. He yanked off his coat so he was just in his t-shirt. He lay down next to the pool edge and reached his arm out to her. He grasped her elbow and pulled her slowly towards the side of the pool.

Shifting himself closer to the edge, House took both hands off of the wall and grasped her armpits. Carefully, trying to avoid hitting her head against the pool side, he managed to get her out of the water. He rolled her off the edge and onto her back.

Her lips were blue. Breathing heavily from a combination of strain and stress, he lowered his head to her mouth. There were no breath sounds. Trying to ignore the mounting panic, he pressed two fingers to her neck.

He exhaled loudly. It was faint, but it was there. He tilted her head back, pinched her nose, and blew two breaths into her mouth.

Ronnie approached the pool, ready to chew that man's ear off for not having come out by now. But the sight that greeted her made her jaw drop. She saw him leaning over the unconscious woman, and she demanded, "What the hell happened here?"

"Don't know," House said testily. "Call 911!"

She quickly pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911.

House checked for breath sounds again. Still nothing. "Come on, Cameron!" he growled softly. He blew into her mouth again. "How soon can the damn ambulance be here?" he snapped at Ronnie.

"Five minutes," she answered quickly.

"Do something useful!" he barked. "Search the building and see if anyone's still here!"

She hurried off to do as he ordered.

Five minutes later, two paramedics barged in. "What happened?" one demanded as he dropped to his knee beside Cameron's prone form.

"Don't know," House said breathlessly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "She was floating in the water, facedown."

Jason looked at Kyle after he took over compressions. "We need to bag her, now!" Kyle gently pushed House aside and quickly did what Jason said.

"Take her to Princeton Plainsboro," House told them. "She was a patient there."

Jason nodded. A few moments later, they carefully placed Cameron on the stretcher they had brought in with them. "Are you riding?" Jason demanded quickly.

"Yes!" House climbed into the ambulance quickly.

Jason continued to help Cameron breathe as Kyle hit the roof of the ambulance, signaling that they were ready to go. The engine started, and they sped out of the parking lot, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

House followed them, limping as fast as he could with his cane. "Can somebody page Dr. Cuddy?" he yelled to no nurse in particular.

Cuddy appeared quickly when she heard House's voice. Moving to the stretcher, she nearly gasped in shock. "What the hell happened, House?" Cuddy demanded as she began checking Cameron's vitals.

"Don't know," he answered gruffly.

She frowned at him as Cameron's stretcher was whisked away, and she and House quickly followed.

"I found her facedown in the pool," he supplied. "I don't know how that happened though."

She quickly checked Cameron's pulse.

"She wasn't breathing on her own," Jason supplied, and she nodded as she quickly intubated her young friend.

As Cuddy checked her pulse again, she was disturbed to find a small puncture wound on the younger woman's neck. Waving House over, she pointed to it. "What is that?"

House stared at it, feeling anger flood through him. "She must have been drugged."

"Was she breathing at all on her own when you found her?" she demanded.

House shook his head. "No."

She checked Cameron's pupils, frowning deeply. The signs were all there. God, no...

Pulling her hand away, she swallowed thickly. "It's veck," she managed.

"Are you sure?" House asked sharply. His insides froze. Instant paralysis. It explained everything - her attacker must have paralyzed her, then thrown her into the pool. Her diaphragm would have been immobilized, and she would have been unable to breathe...and facedown in the water, there would have been nothing to breathe, even if she had tried...

Cuddy groaned softly. "There's nothing... we can do, except wait... and help her breathe."

House growled low in his throat. "We can start trying to find whoever the hell did this to her."

"Then call the police. Let them find the bastard!"

House nodded, and then moved quickly to his office to make the call.

Cuddy stayed by Cameron, watching her vitals intently and feeling more helpless than she ever had in her life.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

Cuddy was checking Cameron's vitals early the next morning when the door opened, and she looked up in surprise. "Jimmy?"

He nodded seriously at Cameron. "How is she?"

"She's holding her own. It's starting to wear off." She sighed wearily. "I keep trying to figure out... why the hell anyone would want to do this to her."

Wilson shook his head. "I can't think of anyone here at the hospital...Do the police have anything yet?"

"No, not yet." She laughed, but it was a hollow and bitter sound. "House has been breathing down their necks for information."

Wilson managed a small chuckle. "I can just imagine." He moved towards Cameron's bed and sat down in the chair next to it. "It must be someone outside of the hospital," he said softly. "Does she have any enemies you know of?"

She sent him a strange look. "Do you? Jimmy, I can't think of anyone who would want to hurt her."

"Maybe a patient..." he mused thoughtfully.

She sat down by Cameron's bed. "House should be here," she commented quietly.

Wilson nodded. "That was...a lot for him...I mean, it is House, but I think he actually cares about her..."

"Of course he does. He just has a hard time showing it."

"Do you...do you think that he's okay?"

She sighed, then looked at Cameron. "Until she is... I don't think so."

Wilson shook his head. "This is just so...unreal, you know?" He sighed heavily. "I wonder if we should ask Chase and Foreman to go through her patient files...They know the cases better than us. Maybe they know something we don't. Or maybe they'll at least remember something that might help us find whoever did this to her."

"Maybe..." She gently touched Cameron's hand, her heart heavy.

Wilson sighed. "All I know is...I want to rip this guy apart limb by limb."

"I know you do. I do, too."

Wilson chuckled. "I bet that's nothing compared to what House wants to do to him."

"Probably not." She couldn't even manage a small smile for him.

He looked at her seriously. "What about you, Lisa?" he asked softly.

She looked down at Cameron, then slowly stood up and began pacing. After several long minutes, she finally turned around and went straight to Wilson, burying herself in his arms.

He hugged her shaking body to his, trying to comfort both her and himself at the same time.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him and pressed her face into his chest. She couldn't possibly imagine being in House's place, seeing someone she loved being attacked and knowing there wasn't a damn thing she could do.

"It will be okay," he murmured. "We'll get through this...she'll get through this...House'll get through this..."

She nodded shakily, unable to let go of him. She knew he was right. As long as Cameron was okay, House would be fine. He would continue being his bitter, sarcastic self. And that was how it was supposed to be. She finally pulled back and looked up into his dark brown eyes, studying them intently.

Reaching out to cup the back of his neck with her hand, she stroked his skin gently. "I love you, Jimmy"  
A small smile pulled at his lips. "Lisa..."

She pressed her finger to his mouth. "Don't. This whole thing... has made me think... What if something happened to you? Anything could happen..." She shook her head, then pulled his head down and brought her lips crashing against his.

After several long moments, he broke apart from her, panting. He gently rested his forehead against hers. "Lisa..." he murmured.

A soft smile quirked at her lips. "What?"

"I - I mean - can we -?"

She nodded firmly. "Yes."

"Are you - Are you sure?"

She nodded again, then pulled him down for another lingering kiss.

TBC...

A/N: Hehehe, couldn't be helped. Cuddy and Wilson just marched right in and demanded a little twist for themselves. I hope this chapter was worth the wait, and thanks again to everyone who took the time to read it. It's greatly appreciated.


End file.
